Headless Horseman (Conn.)

A Story by Abishai100

Adapted 'reincarnation' tale of Sleepy-Hollow for a 'dowry' in New England time.

An adaptation of that wonderful if eerie story of Irving's Sleepy Hollow, set as modernized/resurrection.

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Friends, allow me to relay to you the horrid tale of my darling schoolteacher boyfriend, Mr. Amlan Satan, who'd effectively become the modern Ichabod Crane of Conn. He moved to begin his teachings in mythology of languages and met me, a linguist; and we fell in love. He had this darling teachers-tote in which he carried everything he used in that winter-snow he came to us and fell for me. He's now buried in our campus cemetery, which may as well be a cemetery like any other in this great American Homeland of Selfie-culture readings. Follow along, friends.

MR. SATAN: Perhaps someday, I'll become Dr. Satan, to win your heart (here!).

ME: You're a gorgeously nerdy man of intelligence/myth, Mr. Amlan Satan (yeah).

MR. SATAN: Some call me the modern Ichabod Crane, perhaps for my demeanor!

ME: I'd agree with them...and I'd be wary of you walking home alone at night.

MR. SATAN: In the bonfire of Homecoming weekend backgrounds...stalked (ha!).

ME: By the Headless Horseman, you think (be humble)?

MR. SATAN: For you, that's Selfie-like (ok).

Amlan carried his tote and me made love to me. I became his fiancee and would someday be his professor-peer circles wife in Conn. However, he kept making those loud and awful Ichabod Cranes, and I knew he was tempting his own bad-hands of cleats/fate for evil destiny, which is what I suspect (honestly) what happened to my once-darling. I'll keep his left-behind tote as his special memory for adjectives (for the Ego).

INTERVIEW: You think Amlan Satan came-across some resurrected Horseman, lady?
ME: I don't doubt it, for that winter-season in our New England campus, friend.

INTERVIEW: Perhaps he was walking from the library on Saturday...saw some fire.

ME: I don't doubt it, for that professor-darling of mine was ambition/sharp.

INTERVIEW: He skipped grad-study and was hired as an assistant-professor!

ME: He was a genius; sharp-cleats; he promised us all he'd become Dr. Satan.

INTERVIEW: Recruited right out of college for his brightness for advanced class.

ME: He was a mystical original, that funny-man; I knew he met the Horseman!

INTERVIEW: That's why he was found...without his head, sweet lady.

ME: I don't blame ghosts...I only keep the memoir of something great.

INTERVIEW: Fiction (photo-synthesis!).

ME: That's Conn.

Why, for such an image-rich New England campus, just about reflective of any great American 'view' for education/class, would tragedy befall the skies of record, given Amlan Satan's arrival in that wintry-snow of fantastic beauty-magic for love and learned lines (I wondered)? I write this loving memoir of my darling Mr. Amlan Satan...who was to become my hubby (and perhaps Dr. Satan) of Conn. (photo-synthesis).

I found myself the following August post-death of Satan (Amlan!) cheering on the oncoming American Saturdays-TV rich football team season on our campus in Conn. I thought about how to adapt the loss of Amlan Satan in a retelling, which is what this actually is (for all!). Perhaps Mr. Amlan Satan was decapitated by the resurrected Headless Horseman, who found him, my darling, as the reincarnated 'modern' Ichabod Crane (wow). Perhaps we like thinking analogies and spirits-embodiments in this Earth for the 'sportsmanship' of bound-Romanticism (for all). Satan's gone from us, buried in our campus cemetery (with his head by his side!); and I remain his 'witness' of Catholic-faith in Conn.